


no more lost endeavors

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s03e04 Unleashed, F/M, Fingering, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, basically fanservice if fanfiction wasn't ALREADY fanservice, scallisaac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s finally naked on the bed, Scott’s familiar body pressed under her from the chest, fitting snugly, with his arm thrown across her waist, and she’s looking straight into Isaac’s eyes, fighting the urge to cover herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no more lost endeavors

**Author's Note:**

> Allison is staying over at Scott’s house when Isaac gets there, soaked and alone and asking for shelter. That's the whole plot.

She’s finally naked on the bed, Scott’s familiar body pressed under her from the chest, fitting snugly, with his arm thrown across her waist, and she’s looking straight into Isaac’s eyes, fighting the urge to cover herself. He’s towering above her, his arms on both sides of her head keeping his face less than a foot away from hers, less than a foot away from _Scott’s_ , and his eyes meet hers, meet Scott’s, and for an instant smaller than a breath they flash yellow, golden, and it’s like she’s back in that crammed, crammed room with him.

For an instant smaller than a breath, she’s afraid. Something at the core of her, something in her that is hundreds of millennia old, is fighting to regain consciousness, fighting to surface: the part of her that’s always been afraid of the _thing_ in the dark, just out of reach of the campfire’s light. That reminds her that she is still human, and they are not, not anymore.

And then Scott’s arm tightens around her, like he can hear her think, like he can smell her fear, and she is safe. And then Isaac’s kissing her, no carefulness to it, nothing tentative. He bites hard on her lower lip, slides his tongue over it; she can feel his smirk across her mouth, and the ice-cold of his breath. His skin is dripping wet, and she is warm, so he presses closer. It seems he wasn’t looking for an apology, not at all, and maybe this is better for both of them.

She can hear Scott’s breathing to the left of her head, even and careful. Up until that point, he had only been looking, but she can feel him growing harder, the pressure between her legs, and she shifts her hips carefully to give him space. Isaac breaks the kiss, and for a moment everything is still as he looks down to Scott. Then he takes his hand, presses it to Allison’s breast, his own fingers curling on her skin, tentative. He’s looking at her now, really looking, at her soft curves and the expanse of pale skin, her full breasts, her thighs, her stomach, and when he looks back up, right at her, his eyes are dark, wanting. He’s clearly waiting for a sign, some indication that this is okay, and she grins when she realizes that, puckish. She kisses him again, and this time it’s all her, her hand pressing down on his neck to allow for more contact, and she pulls at his arm to get his body closer.

She can hardly breathe, his lean body heavy on top of her, and she can feel Scott protesting, so maybe this is not the best way to go about it. They reposition, sitting up this time, Scott’s back to the wall. Allison slides over to him, straddling him, and she doesn’t have to look at Isaac to know he’s coming as well. She feels his hands on her body, first her back, then her breasts. Her forehead rests on Scott’s, her breathing uneven and harsher with each passing second, and his voice is tight and rough when he tells her, low: _I can smell you, you know_.

His hand is on her, two fingers sliding across lengthwise, gathering wetness, not really enough pressure to do anything except tease, and she throws her head back on Isaac’s shoulder, panting. Isaac’s breathing hard, kissing against her bared throat, and his arms slide around her waist before he gets his hands over her, her breasts, a hand slipping fingers inside her mouth, holding it open. Scott slides his own fingers in then, making her taste herself, and she whines, her hips aflutter with the contact they lost.

Both boys are trying to pull her closer now, kissing open-mouthed like they’re fighting, and none of them is giving her what she needs, so she shifts her own hand down to her hot cunt, fingertips pressing just enough to relieve the pressure, to give her an inkling of what expects her. It’s enough to make her moan, and she presses closer to Scott’s leg under her, riding it to the best of her ability in the small space between the two bodies. He definitely feels it, because she’s being thrown on her back a second later, barely the time to blink, and Scott’s holding her wrists down on the bed over her head. He laughs out loud when she whines, looking at Isaac with mirth in his eyes. _She never can get enough, did you know that?_

Isaac mouths down her neck, little biting kisses on her collarbones, harder when she arches towards him, and then he’s curling his tongue around her nipple and his hand is flat on her other breast. She’s being loud now, so loud. She can’t remember how long she’s been waiting for it, and when Scott slides down on the bed and breathes heavy, hot, just over her folds, she’s thrashing, a hand in Isaac’s hair, a hand in Scott’s, pulling them closer, their tongues driving her mad with want. Scott’s a pointy pressure inside her, soft and the warmest she’s ever had, his upper lip giving the occasional brush on her clit as he tries to get deeper, to take more of her in.

Isaac’s hand is hot on her body, and he’s pressing two fingers, three fingers on her, in mindless patterns that have her cant her hips up, fuck Scott’s face desperately. He’s watching her, biting his own lip; his other hand is holding her down now, replacing Scott’s, and she doesn’t have the strength to even appear to fight it. She needs _something_ now, the hard length of one of them in her. Allison wishes they would throw her on her knees and make her grip the headboard white-knuckled, wishes one of them would grip her hips and ride her hard, a hand on her shoulder to push her back, make her take it all in. She knows Scott well, what he’s like; all soft pressure and teasing, long, heavy pushes that make her ache afterwards, slow and strong thrusts that make it last longer. She’s never known another boy; now she wants to find out what Isaac’s like, what he would be like. She looks at him from under her heavy lids, a fluttering note to her low voice, watches his lips, his throat when she says: _I want you to fuck me_.

Allison’s afraid of what comes next, of what Scott might think, but he crawls over her body right to her mouth, kissing her without touching her face. He works a finger inside her, two of them, pushing and working her open while he directs Isaac to the condoms. He’s still kissing her, a hand on her face, smiling against her lips, only parting with Isaac’s return.

Their dynamic shifts: Scott is pushing the other boy on the bed, on his back, holding him down. Allison watches them with wide-eyed wonder as Scott takes the condom from Isaac, bends down to put it on with tongue and lips, fingers curling around his shaft, tight pressure at the base. Isaac’s cock is longer, a bit wider than Scott’s; she’s never had this much, she thinks, shivering.

Scott directs Isaac, makes him sit on the bed where it meets the corner of the room, an arm thrown on the headboard for balance, his legs sprawled in front of him. Allison straddles him, biting her lip, Scott’s hand on the small of her back urging her on, stroking the skin with his thumb. It’s not how she would have chosen to do it, but it does it for her, even more so when she realizes this is what Scott wants to see.

He holds Isaac’s cock for her to adjust, to slide on, and she takes it in, inch after inch, Isaac’s little shivers and breathy moans coaxing her and turning her on more than she’d care to admit. Her back arches like a bow, Scott’s voice soothing in her ear, calming, open and trusting, and she loves this boy, she has for years.

Finally she meets Scott’s hand at the base of Isaac’s length and he eases his grip, rests it on her stomach while she meets Isaac’s thighs with her own. She braces herself on the wall behind him, eyes closed, feeling the blunt pressure inside her, the warmth and the pulsing of it, and Isaac’s shivering thighs under her. There’s only barely room for breathing in the space between their faces. She knows this must be akin to torture for him, her not moving, but she needs a minute all the same.

She trains her eyes on his face before starting to move, riding him slow and careful until she finds a rhythm, a pattern, her hips rotating and meeting his with every thrust. Allison kisses him again, all breath and teeth, all tongue, inside his mouth, sliding against it, then across his lips.

Isaac is holding her face close, a thumb on the corner of her mouth to pull it open, and she bends down, level with Scott’s waist, his hips, where he’s kneeling next to them. Isaac’s looking at Scott like an invitation, something between the two of them she’s too turned on to process.

Scott fits his cock in Allison’s mouth, thumb brushing her upper lip, her cheekbones, her closed lids that flutter under his touch like a caged bird, barely-there heat. Isaac’s hand is at the base of Scott’s shaft instantly, jerking him, taking care of what Allison can’t reach. _Now that’s fucking teamwork_ , she thinks. Her tongue presses on the roof of her mouth, and she slides his cockhead underneath, encased. Scott’s the one holding her up, now, and she’s stilled her hips for a moment, struggling to concentrate on everything at once.

Isaac grips her waist with both hands, thumbs bruising over her hipbones, pushing and pulling at her while he grinds his length, all of it, into her. She’s so close, a buzzing low heat coiling in her gut, and her head is swimming with it, the promise of release, peaking. She’s stroking Scott, working him until her hands are shaking bad enough that she stops, presses on herself at last with her fingertips, the heel of her hand, working her clit with practiced ease, the patterns she knows will tip her over. She fits a finger inside herself, two, pressing against Isaac’s cock, and it’s done.

They push her back on the bed, Isaac licking at her cunt through her orgasm, Scott’s tongue licking over her mouth, her breaths, soothing. She must be very loud, she thinks absent-mindedly, arching off the bed positively wild now, canting her hips to try and take everything that she can, to try and take Isaac’s tongue deep inside her, as deep as it will go. It lasts barely seconds, but that’s hours in her mind, hours of sparks of pleasure still shooting through her nerves, shutting her brain down.

Through her lashes, underneath heavy lids, she can still see Scott crawling toward Isaac and fitting him whole in his mouth, his throat, his jaw hanging low enough that he’s almost level with Isaac’s crotch, impossibly close, pulling him toward him some more with a hand on his hips, and his little choking sounds are the hottest thing she’s ever heard. He’s pulling back slowly, too slowly, Isaac thinks, but then he’s holding his cock inches away from his face, eyes closed and mouth hanging wide, and as he fits his thumb over the head, down the underside of Isaac’s cock, his orgasm pulses through him hard, coating Scott’s lips, tongue, his eyelids with come.

Scott is smiling, a fucking work of art, his cock so hard it must be aching right about now. He doesn’t even appear to mind it, instead licking at his lips, swallowing, hungry for it like Allison’s never seen him. Isaac brings his fingers to brush his come out his face and Scott pulls them in his mouth, licking over them until they are spit-soaked and clean.

He’s the last man standing; Allison pushes him back, back, her eyes trained on Isaac like it’s an invitation but a request, an order. They’re both licking messily at his length then, tongues lapping up and down as well as licking each other. There’s no rhythm, no pattern, no logic to it, just soft wet mouths on him, blind to his needs. Scott is open-mouthed, panting, spent, both his hands coiled in their hair, not pushing or pulling but there, there until he comes right into Allison’s mouth.

She doesn’t swallow yet, just has both her and Isaac on her knees, and she kisses him, the salty, bitter taste of Scott all over her tongue, her mouth, pushing it into Isaac’s open one with her tongue, with a moan. They both swallow around it, smiling at Scott, smiling at each other.

-

They collapse on the narrow bed, crammed, spent, and of course Scott would call the middle of the cuddle pile, a content smile on his face. It could be awkward but they don’t let it, wouldn’t think of it, and when they wake up the next morning still stark naked, Isaac and Allison are holding hands over Scott’s body, fingers twined and tangled together. 


End file.
